


What If We Start Again

by JemTheKingOfSass



Category: The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Conflict Resolution, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Post-Canon, Yunmeng brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-15 05:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JemTheKingOfSass/pseuds/JemTheKingOfSass
Summary: Jiang Cheng stares down at the end of the pier, watching the person he both seeks and avoids, who stands gazing out over the river. His brother is unusually still - the only movement comes from long strands of hair tossed carelessly by the breeze, moonlight reflecting off them like diamonds as each one ripples in the air like water. He clenches his hands into fists, before striding more confidently than he feels down towards Wei Wuxian.





	What If We Start Again

**Author's Note:**

> I was searching for a song that screamed JC, specifically to put me into a repentant tsun mood and [Karra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karratran) totally came through and recommended the song ["Start Again" by RED](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=tVdris9HRQE) (lyric title). Thank you, sweets! You are a rockstar. ╰( ´⌣`)╯✲ﾟ*｡♡.♡*✲ﾟ*｡.
> 
> Listen, before anyone yells at me about JC’s portrayal in this, can I just tell you how very much I need this? I know y’all need it too. This is pure self-indulgence, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (˘ʃƪ˘)  
>  

 

* * *

 

 

Jiang Cheng stares down at the end of the pier, watching the person he both seeks and avoids, who stands gazing out over the river. His brother is unusually still - the only movement comes from long strands of hair tossed carelessly by the breeze, moonlight reflecting off them like diamonds as each one ripples in the air like water. He clenches his hands into fists, before striding more confidently than he feels down towards Wei Wuxian. 

The other man turns as Jiang Cheng approaches, a smile lighting up his face though a flicker of hesitation flits across his eyes. The sect leader furrows his brows and battles back his irritation that these eyes aren’t the ones he knows, the ones that bring to mind hundreds of shared memories. He’s seen these unfamiliar eyes dance with mischief, only truly opening up if he thinks Jiang Cheng isn’t looking - his brother’s insouciance shines through regardless of whose body houses him. Still, it bothers him that this face is that of a stranger’s. When he dives deeply within himself, to a place shadowed and hidden away, where the refusal to forgive is forbidden, Jiang Cheng longs to divorce his unwanted yet stubborn companions, anger and loathing. He doesn’t want those burdens anymore, doesn’t want to be filled with hatred, doesn’t want this life of isolation and contempt - 

He doesn’t want his brother to be a stranger. 

Wei Wuxian steps back when he spies the frown, radiance dimming and heel tottering dangerously on the edge of the dock. Jiang Cheng lurches forward and grasps his brother’s elbow, yanking him so close their noses practically brush. They both recoil, Wei Wuxian painting a phony smile on his pretty face, Jiang Cheng brushing non-existent dust off his robes. 

“I don’t think I got you dirty, Jiang Cheng. No need to purify yourself simply from touching me, though I humbly thank you for rescuing this fair maiden from distress.” Wei Wuxian bows so theatrically and so low to the ground, it’s a wonder he doesn’t topple over. 

“Stop that,” commands Jiang Cheng, unsure why he sounds hostile when he absolutely did not venture down here to pick a fight. Not tonight. Tonight is for something else, something long overdue which sours his stomach every time he considers giving voice to his most protected truth. Except it hurts worse the longer time marches on without Wei Wuxian back in his life, in a vague, unclear way that goes beyond shared history and a common nephew. Demonstrably, Wei Wuxian’s ancient promise of Twin Heroes is a long-lost whisper, a path for another timeline - in some universe they rule the Yunmeng Jiang sect as a leader and his most trusted second in command. Together, solving the problems of their community and clan, plotting, strategizing, existing, breathing. 

Together. 

In this life, the most they can be is family, and Jiang Cheng knows he has already wasted enough time without his brother by his side, without _being_ by his brother’s side. Twin heroes, twin prides, twin pillars - it doesn’t matter, Jiang Cheng simply wants Wei Wuxian back. Things are mostly forgiven, never forgotten, but he just needs to _let it all go_ ; he cannot go on living a shadowed and bitter life. He smooths his face, craving the authentic soul of Wei Wuxian in front of him, not some skittish, overly enthusiastic, cheap imitation. 

“Where’s Hanguang-Jun? I’m surprised he let you wander alone.” The words are neutral, safe, and show an interest in Wei Wuxian’s chosen life, his hand-selected family. 

His brother laughs, throaty and musical, reaching out a hand to clutch at Jiang Cheng’s sleeve. “He almost didn’t want to come to Yunmeng at all tonight, trying to protect me I think. But I told him I won’t stay away from my-”

Jiang Cheng has done this. His ire towards this man has made him hesitant to admit to having a childhood home, to having an adoptive family who shaped him into the person he has become. He feels his features settle into their natural positions, a scowl forming without him even putting forth effort. He glares at Wei Wuxian, whose eyes already seem more familiar, despite wearing a new shine the longer the two men stare at one another. 

Wei Wuxian breaks first, head swiveling back towards the water, hand nervously scratching at the back of his head, an idle gesture that sparks dozens of recollections featuring this same tic in Jiang Cheng’s mind, slamming into him unbidden and unwanted. 

That was then, this is now. They can have a future. They _will_ have a future, if Jiang Cheng proves strong enough to deliver the message he came to convey. 

Wei Wuxian’s anxious giggling sends an uneasy twinge of guilt shooting through the sect leader, who holds up a hand as soon as he sees the constantly moving mouth open yet again. “What did Lan Wangji think he had to protect you from in coming here this evening?” It’s now or never. “This is your home.”

“What? Jiang Cheng, the last place I lived was in Yiling and my new residence is in Gusu. I’ve slept many places, including the streets, so don’t throw around words like home as casually as that.” Wei Wuxian glowers at him, and though Jiang Cheng has never personally felt intimidated by the Yiling Patriarch, he certainly comprehends how countless others fall prey. 

“I’m serious, Wei Wuxian,” insists Jiang Cheng, intent on not allowing masterful verbal play to be the cause of this man wriggling away from this question. “What did the mighty Hanguang-Jun think he had to protect you from here, at an open festival in Yunmeng?” 

“You wandered pretty far from the festivities to hound me with this question.”

“It’s not a complicated one, so why won’t you answer?”

“I bet it’s not too often the fearsome Sandu Shengshou isn’t graced with an immediate reply. Aren’t you tempted to twist your ring and whip the answer out of me?” There’s a smirk plastered on Wei Wuxian’s face, he’s clearly trying to irritate Jiang Cheng into stomping off, leaving him alone, disappearing in a cloud of rage that has the power to fuel their tense exchanges for the next several months.

The breath hitches in his chest, as Jiang Cheng contemplates the ease of playing into his brother’s game. If he walks away now, neither of them are forced to face the wreckage of past grievances and righteous grudges - they both bear a deadly and dirty history with one another. Wei Wuxian has atoned with his life. Since his rebirth, he has desperately tried to move beyond a devastating past, yet been given almost nothing more than further rebuke from Jiang Cheng, who continuously scoffs at their shared sacrifices and belittles his effort. 

Jiang Cheng is a total fool. 

“Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng swallows the lump of aching regret that threatens to choke his words, the burning pride that eats him alive, except soon there won’t be much left to gorge on, the sect leader sure to be nothing more than an empty shell. “I know he’s protecting you from me.”

Wei Wuxian lowers his gaze and Jiang Cheng follows it to the bell he wears at his waist. The other man reaches a slender hand forward towards purple robes, his fingertips grazing over the spiritual bell with the lightest of feather touches, yearning and pain etched into the slight creases of his boyish face. “I’m not scared of you, Jiang Cheng. I never have been, not even once, not even when lack of fear led to my death and destruction.”

Jiang Cheng flushes with shame and disgust, nightmarish memories of the first siege at the Burial Mounds exploding in his mind. He tries to quell it, the never distant simmering fury that bubbles up within him. He clenches his jaw and steps back, putting distance between him and the man he likely doesn’t even deserve to call brother anymore. _Why is he even still standing here?_ “I’m needed back at the festivities. I should stop hiding down here by the river. I’m sure the fireworks are beginning soon and that means I have to find Jin Ling. We always watch the fireworks together and he gets scared of…” Jiang Cheng sweats as he rambles, remembering too late their nephew is full grown now, and it's been many years since he has been fearful of the sound of explosives. He fidgets and rubs Zidian while he vomits words out of his mouth, the air crackling around him, as his nerves fray further and his composure eviscerates down to nothing. 

“Jiang Cheng, what’s wrong?” The hand is back on him, this time on his shoulder, Mo Xuanyu’s slim body belying its own strength. Or perhaps, the force of Wei Wuxian’s faith and commitment in those he loves is enough to overcome any physical shortcomings. 

Jiang Cheng is certain he doesn’t deserve that devotion. 

“Nothing. Let it be.” The sect leader hisses as he backpedals, pulling away from Wei Wuxian’s reassuring hold, again forcing an expression of melancholy on the other’s face. 

“Don’t run away from me. Stay. Please, don’t give up on me. I’ll be better, I’ll tease our nephew less, I’ll stay away from Yunmeng and hide in the Cloud Recesses forever, just don’t turn aw-”

Jiang Cheng steps forward, grasping Wei Wuxian’s shoulders like a bird of prey viciously afraid of losing his catch, and shakes him, probably too hard but he’s heard _enough_. “Stop it! Just shut up for once, Wei Wuxian! Do you never stop babbling? It’s not you! I...I… it’s me. It’s me.” At this whispered confession, all the air abandons him as his knees buckle, and the only thing holding him up is the sturdy support of Wei Wuxian, who guides them both softly to the ground with a firm hold on Jiang Cheng’s elbows.

Blood rushes in his ears, his head is pounding, and as Jiang Cheng wrenches open his eyes, he’s dizzy. He gapes at the calm face in front of him, the other man concerned but unrattled. Jiang Cheng supposes after dying and being scattered into a million pieces, it takes more than a few weak, powerless words to crumble his resolve. He is aware of the tenuous nature of their relationship, how hard Wei Wuxian has tried and tried again, not faultless, but assuredly not deserving of the treatment he’s received at the hand of his brother. 

A fresh wave of chagrin washes over Jiang Cheng as he kneels before Wei Wuxian, on his own knees in front of him, hands still tightly gripping his elbows. Precious moments pass in silence, unusual for both of them to remain quiet this long, especially in each other’s presence. The other man waits, patient and unhurried, for more - more excuses, more taunts, more blame. He can’t possibly be aware the direction of Jiang Cheng’s thoughts because they have yet to be spoken. 

The sect leader swallows, unsure if he’s clearing his mouth of an overabundance of saliva or pride. “Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian’s hands slide down his forearms until he grasps Jiang Cheng’s hands instead. He is warm and comforting, and holding his brother’s hands steels resolve within him that has been absent in this matter for far too long, for forever. A small but honest smile graces the face that Jiang Cheng grows more accustomed to the longer he remains in its company. 

“I should have told you a long time ago,” begins Jiang Cheng, working his way up to more painful and raw admissions. 

This turns into the exact moment Wei Wuxian relocates his voice. He laughs and fervently shakes his head, almost manic in his desperation for Jiang Cheng to halt his words. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything! This is why I didn’t, why I couldn't, why you never knew about...brother, don’t say things merely because your unfailing sense of propriety forces your hand! I don’t warrant that lowering of yourself. Don’t.” The last word punches itself out of Wei Wuxian’s mouth like it physically pains him, expression wobbling into a grimace, bottom lip quivering with the weight of the exchange. 

“I’m not forced to say any of this, damn it!” Jiang Cheng barks back in frustration. His brother has always been dense and infuriating and self sacrificing, never failing to fall on the proverbial sword if it spares someone else’s heart. Younger face, smaller frame, weaker golden core, and yet nothing intrinsic to the embodiment of Wei Wuxian has changed, which relieves and irritates Jiang Cheng in equal measure. If he could forcefully shove his reasoning into Wei Wuxian’s thick skull in order to spare them both the aggravation of this overdue conversation, he would. This is excruciating and it pains them both, though it’s mostly his own fault that tension defines their current relationship, and has done for over two decades. “Tch, you idiot. I’m prostrate before you saying these things because I want to be here.”

Wei Wuxian, still trembling and shiny with barely restrained tears, nods as he grits out a reply. “Then say what you mean.”

“I’m trying!” Jiang Cheng roars, before wrenching a hand free and pinching the bridge of his nose. He sits back on his heels, still clutching one of Wei Wuxian’s hands like a childhood security blanket. “This isn’t easy for me.” 

“It’s as much my fault as-”

“No!” Jiang Cheng forcibly schools his features and calms his voice. “No. You’re far from perfect and blameless, but truthfully Wei Wuxian, you have been trying with me and I’ve been needlessly cruel in return. And...and I’m sorry.” The words taste sweet as they roll off his tongue, and the promise of honey fuels him to continue talking. 

“We saved each other’s lives, and really that’s of the utmost importance to us both, but that’s not what compels me to say any of this. You deserve better than I’ve given you, Wei Wuxian. It has taken me far too many years to understand that when I lost my family, you also lost yours. When that fool attacked you, we both lost our sister.” Jiang Cheng stumbles on the last word, certain his tightly clenched eyes are as wet as the other man’s now as the final memory of their sister, soaked in red and falling to the floor within the magnificent walls of The Palace of Sun and Flames, assails them both. When the swell of painful nostalgia recedes enough to crack his eyes open, he sees tears rolling freely down Wei Wuxian’s smooth, slack cheeks, a glassy grey gaze determinedly fixed upon him.

A salty drop lands on the back of Jiang Cheng’s hand, the one still resolutely attached to Wei Wuxian. He glances down, taking his sleeve and wiping it away, before another falls to replace it. 

“I’m sorry,” breathes out Wei Wuxian, furiously scrubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his free arm. 

“For what? For crying? For missing Yanli? For being forced into the presence of an angry, stupid mob out for blood when they sensed an opportunity to put you down like a dog?” The rage rises like an unstoppable tide, and Jiang Cheng seethes at his own role in his brother’s eventual destruction. 

Wei Wuxian smooths his thumb over the errant tears littering Jiang Cheng’s skin. “No, for getting your hand wet. Although.” He grins, and although it’s shaky and lopsided, the sect leader appreciates the effort towards some semblance of normalcy, whatever unknown balance that may actually be for them. “Feel your own face. These could be your own tears.”

Their joined hands snap up to Jiang Cheng’s cheek, where proof of his grief flows like a gentle stream along his skin. “I guess you’re right. It happens sometimes, I suppose.” He should be mortified at the thick, wet sound that he attempts to pass as a laugh, but Wei Wuxian beams at him like he’s deserving of the radiance. 

“You just admitted I’m right. You can’t take those words back, brother! I heard them, you heard them. They’ve been said out loud for the universe to marvel at for as long as it exists.” Wei Wuxian squeezes Jiang Cheng’s fingers and releases him, joy practically oozing out of him, it’s palpable. Jiang Cheng idly wonders if he can steal some, plant it within the dark murky layers of his soul in hopes it will take root and flourish. He’s exhausted of the light in his life withering and dying as soon as he notices it and takes an interest. 

Jiang Cheng has a bone-deep longing for this illumination to keep him burning from within - he misses Wei Wuxian so much his soul aches for him. 

His best friend, his family, his brother.

“Wait!” Jiang Cheng shouts, though neither of them has moved, revelation causing his lack of decorum. “That’s the second time tonight you’ve called me brother.”

Nonplussed, Wei Wuxian stares back at him, eyebrows raised in surprise, even though he attempts to chuckle the moment away. “Well, I mean, we _did_ grow up together and…”

A mirror of anguished yearning reveals itself in these eyes that are now nothing less than Wei Wuxian’s, his own desire for a mended relationship reflected back towards him. “Together, at Lotus Pier. Your home, Wei Wuxian.”

“My home,” mumbles the other man, dropping his gaze to the damp wooden slats beneath their knees. 

“It’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.” This is easier now somehow, and Jiang Cheng probably should examine the shift except he doesn’t want to, it isn’t necessary. There is something emerging out of dead, dry soil that its been buried under, moistened by the raw honesty of their shared tears, a young pulsing seedling that will require nurturing and attention, but it’s _there_ , out in the open, gasping for life where they both can notice it and watch it flourish. “You may call another location your residence, and I am glad you’ve found a person to forge a home with, but Wei Wuxian, you will always belong here in spirit. Right here, by my-”

It’s too fresh, too soon, he’s too vulnerable here next to his brother. Although, Jiang Cheng has always felt safe when they are together; without fail, it’s his own weaknesses he’s been frightened of throughout his life. Wei Wuxian has always protected him, and somewhere along the way Jiang Cheng stopped doing the same in return. Now that he has made the first step towards true reconciliation, a true partnership, a desire to reciprocate and ensure Wei Wuxian’s well-being again comes as naturally as it ever did.

“I’m by your side now, aren’t I?” Wei Wuxian reaches forward, placing his palm flat over Jiang Cheng’s heart. “I was always on your side, but if you didn’t know it or believe it, what good was it? What if we start again? I’ll do better, brother. Even if I don’t live here in Yunmeng, I’m not leaving. You’ll always have me by your side, if you want me. I made that promise, and maybe it looks different than what we thought as children, but it’s still true.”

“I’ll never not want you by my side! I always wanted you. I miss you and love you, you asshole!” The bare truth pours out of Jiang Cheng before he can even attempt to make it glossy and attractive and far less humiliating, though he supposes they are far beyond saving face at this point. 

Wei Wuxian laughs like music, a rich, mirthful sound missing from Lotus Pier for too many long, solitary days and nightmare-drenched nights. “I miss you and love you too, you arrogant, angry, insufferable jerk.” 

Jiang Cheng snorts out a giggle, which he only realizes is horribly unflattering after it hits his ears. Wei Wuxian’s hand on his chest turns into a fist as he clutches the purple robes, bending at the waist and raucously guffawing at his brother’s expense. The sect leader valiantly tries to stifle the undignified noises he makes, which only serves to produce more awkward sounds that are a cross between choking and laughter. Wei Wuxian _howls_ , cheeks flushed and eyes crinkled shut with no hope of composure. 

Jiang Cheng gives up and gives in, gripping his brother’s shoulders tightly but fully letting go. He laughs, deeply from the bottom of his spirit, joy bursting through the clouds that have blanketed him, insistently and relentlessly weighing him down for as long as he can remember.

The two grown men stay like that for longer than they likely should, heads tipped together as though they share a secret joke, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t care about possibly being a spectacle. He’s happier, lighter, freer, than he’s been in years - let all of Yunmeng see him now, like this. If Wei Wuxian tugs him effortlessly into the sky, claiming a desire to fly without the power of their swords, he will gladly follow and make it happen for him, for them. 

Eventually they pull apart and gather themselves, Jiang Cheng awkwardly straightening his robes after being pulled every which way by Wei Wuxian. He is fairly sure he hasn’t had this much human contact since Jin Ling was a toddler and needed comforting from scary dreams. Jiang Cheng sincerely hopes his brother has never had a starring role in their nephew’s nightmares, dismayed that he wouldn’t have quelled that blame so readily when the child was much younger. Somewhere along the way, Jiang Cheng has matured and gained perspective. He’s not sure how his outlook changed, or when exactly, yet he welcomes the transformation with arms that gradually open as layers of regret and indignation are stripped away. 

The sect leader hesitates when Wei Wuxian’s eyes brighten to near blinding levels and he fixes his gaze over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. There is only one individual who can put that sticky sweet, though admittedly beautiful, expression on his brother’s face. Jiang Cheng is proud of Wei Wuxian for finding love, or at least, letting love find him, but there has always been a sliver of him that is intimidated by Lan Wangji. He considers the fact that they are technically family of sorts. He turns with what he hopes is an air of elegance and a moderately pleasant expression. 

Wei Wuxian elbows him in the side while they both watch Lan Wangji approach the end of the pier. “Why do you look like you have to throw up? It’s just Lan Zhan.” Easy for him to say - Jiang Cheng is convinced there have been plenty of moments in which Hanguang-Jun has wanted nothing more than to bring his life to a swift and fitting end as recompense for the disdain he has shown towards his cultivation partner. 

Jiang Cheng respectfully greets the Second Jade of Lan as his position dictates, yet with as much humility as he can muster. If the evening continues in this fashion, he’s not sure he’ll ever again be able to summon the righteous anger needed to properly wield Zidian. He enjoys the soothing warmth that flows through him after his discussion with Wei Wuxian, as he realizes he has isolated himself with his personal demons for long enough, too long. This is nice, this is better.

He can finally breathe again. 

“Jiang Wanyin.” An immaculate head tips in acknowledgment of his presence, nothing more, before focusing exclusively on his reason for venturing to this pier. “Wei Ying. Sizhui is wondering where you are.”

Wei Wuxian laughs, patting Lan Wangji’s hand that encircles his waist protectively. “Aww, are you worried about us down here on the docks? Well, no fear, Lan Zhan! I have the protection of the powerful Sandu Shengshou, and he has the support of the fearsome Yiling Patriarch, and neither one of us will allow anything bad to happen to the other.”

A dual chorus of “Wei Wuxian” and “Wei Ying” ring out over the river, and said man snickers at the pair of incredulous faces. He throws his hands up in mock surrender. 

“What? That’s our new journey together, isn’t it? We can’t safeguard Yunmeng together if we don’t first look after each other! I’ve got you now, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Wuxian smirks, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “And there’s no getting away from me. _Brother._ ”

Jiang Cheng peers over at Lan Wangji, and finds the man watching him already, normally icy expression thawed, now subtly open and ruthlessly assessing. The sect leader bows in deference, more calmly than the tightening in his gut allows him to fully accept. He steadies his nerves and levels his voice. “Lan Wangji, your chosen partner will always be safe and welcome at Lotus Pier, as will you. Please don’t be strangers here. You are family, and you have my most sincere apologies that this invitation has been so delayed in being extended to you both.”

Wei Wuxian gasps as he goggles at Jiang Cheng. His partner remains much more composed as he unexpectedly falls to his knees in front of the Jiang sect leader and only remaining member of Wei Wuxian’s family. Dumbstruck, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian exchange an astonished glance before Lan Wangji speaks. “Jiang Wanyin, I promise to honor and cherish Wei Wuxian for as long as we both shall live. I humbly ask for your blessing in our decision to become cultivation partners.”

Jiang Cheng freezes - witnessing the revered cultivator lower himself in front of someone as unworthy of the gesture as himself knots his stomach unpleasantly. He drops the pretense of impeccable manners as representatives of their clans, and makes a hasty grab for Lan Wangji’s pristine white sleeves in an attempt to haul him back to his feet. “Hanguang-Jun, you don’t need my approval, not least of which because you are _already_ cultivation partners.”

Lan Wangji, whose robes aren’t even the slightest bit smudged from kneeling on mossy wooden planks, inclines his head in what Jiang Cheng assumes is agreement. “Mn.”

“I am honored at the gesture, I am. But, let’s just...move on from all this. There is a clear path forward and I believe we’re all currently walking on it. Please don’t kneel before me, Lan Wangji. I am undeserving of that from you. All I seek is your forgiveness.” The words tumble unplanned out of his mouth, as his words often do, but the sentiment is honest and Jiang Cheng doesn’t regret it.

Lan Wangji’s face loosens, nearly imperceptibly, and his regal head bobs in a single nod. “What’s behind us is forgiven. It is useless to dwell. The only way to move on is to move forward.”

Jiang Cheng is stirred at the sheer amount of words shared with him by the taciturn Second Master Lan, as well as the enlightened message behind them. If it’s in the past, it is pardoned, and that applies to all three of them. Jiang Cheng almost wants to collapse right there on the pier from the sheer relief that threatens to overwhelm him. He hadn't anticipated Lan Wangji's swift exoneration, though perhaps it has been laying dormant, expectant, waiting for the lucid moment of Jiang Cheng's humility. He idly wonders if he merits grace of this magnitude from either of these men, although he'll attempt to humbly accept it, and clutch it close to his chest where it cannot be misplaced or forgotten. 

Wei Wuxian hooks his arm through Lan Wangji’s and they take a step towards the shore, when he halts next to Jiang Cheng, tilting his head and gazing at him. He stares dumbly at his brother in return. Lan Wangji lightly clears his throat and tips his head down at Wei Wuxian, who stands with his elbow crooked and held out towards Jiang Cheng. 

“Oh! Oh, yes, right. I’ll just, take your arm then.” Jiang Cheng almost made it through this entire episode without becoming a sputtering mess, but a friendly gesture appears to be his most likely undoing. He links his arm with his brother before any more failed communication can spew out of his mouth, and together the three of them make their way off the pier. They walk in tandem, arms connected together like the youth they were never fully allowed to be, and Jiang Cheng leads them back towards the festival. Wei Wuxian chatters about finding the perfect spot for viewing the fireworks which have just begun, while Lan Wangji walks contentedly by his side. Jiang Cheng hums to himself, Zidian cool and quiet against his warm skin, which buzzes with the low-lying thrum of an emotion he can’t quite pinpoint. 

“You’re thinking too loudly, brother,” chides Wei Wuxian, who is practically skipping between the two most important members of his family, both actively chosen, and committed to in different ways. Jiang Cheng swallows heavily, shaking off his thoughts, and attempts to simply enjoy the moment. “You’re happy. It’s okay to be happy and just roll around in it for no reason. You’re allowed to feel good.”

Jiang Cheng halts his steps, inadvertently causing the other two men to stop as well. He tightens his hold on Wei Wuxian, causing the other to peek up at him knowingly through his unruly hair. If not for his brother, he fears he would be floating up amongst the fiery bursts of color in the night sky. “I…”

Wei Wuxian hugs Jiang Cheng’s arm close to his body and rests his head lightly on his shoulder, the weight a comforting and grounding presence. Lan Wangji glances over with a solemn blink, the slightest smile tipping up the corners of his mouth. “No need, Jiang Cheng. Save those words. We don’t need them, after all we’re brothers, right?”

“Right,” agrees Jiang Cheng without hesitation. His heart unfurls like a flower hopefully reaching for the sun in spring, not needing any reason to stretch towards the light beyond instinct urging it upwards, to a future heady and enticing with the scent of promises and dreams. Yanli would be so proud of him, of both of them.

 

“Brothers forever, Jiang Cheng?”

 

“Brothers forever, Wei Wuxian.”

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Is this wishful thinking? Maybe. Probably. Absolutely. Just...allow yourself a brief moment to forget canon and the soul-crushing knowledge that these two stubborn morons will likely never grow tf up and make real heartfelt amends. But you know what? It's fine, you're fine, it's all fine. I know I'm fine. IT COULD HAPPEN. ｡：ﾟ(｡ﾉ﹏＼｡)ﾟ･｡


End file.
